


Merry Christmas, Spike

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike's had a lot of Christmases in his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Spike

It was shortly after dinner when his mother brought the large box out. "I know things have been difficult lately, my dear," she said quietly. "And it's not much, but you need one, and, well, a stitch in time..."

"Saves nine," William teased quietly, well aware of his mother's fondness for old cliches like that. He was glad to see her smile in response, even if it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Insolent boy." But there was a lightness to her words that hadn't been there earlier, and he paused to congratulate himself on bringing it out. "I probably should just keep this to myself, but since I doubt it would fit me... Happy Christmas, my dear."

Nothing had been said about Christmas this year, but he'd naturally assumed they wouldn't be observing it in any real way. A widow of less than six months and her son weren't exactly welcome in society - not that they had ever been welcomed with open arms at the best of times. "Mother, you really shouldn't have."

"Don't say that. It's Christmas, and we can't let it go by without marking the day, can we? Your father -" she choked up, but forced the words out anyway. "He wouldn't want us being sad, not today of all days."

She was right, of course. Andrew Pratt loved Christmas, and the small house had always been wreathed with greenery and glowing with lights as soon as December arrived. Christmas morning had always meant presents, love, and plenty of laughter, and it had been a shock when he discovered how many of his schoolmates viewed it as little more than a nuisance. William never told them what his own holidays were like, mostly because he didn't want to give them one more thing to make fun of, and especially not Christmas.

Anne smiled and reached out to tap the box. "Come now, I spent all last week looking for this. Why, I walked all over Bond Street, knee deep in snow practically freezing my cheeks right off my face!" Her eyes shone as she teased him, and for a second he could almost hear his father spinning out a tale about fighting bears and Indians for his present, the way he used to delight in doing. "Surely you wouldn't want to disappoint me and leave it unopened!"

"Of course not," he replied, summoning a smile as he carefully untied the ribbon and laid it to the side, then slowly began to remove the paper as well. When he lifted the lid off the box, he stared down at its contents in wonder.

"Well? Are you going to stare all night or take it out?" His mother's soft laugh broke the momentary trance and William reached in, lightly stroking the deep blue fabric before he drew it out of the box. The folds of heavy velvet shone in the firelight, but it was the carefully worked monogram over one breast that caught his eye. 

Setting the box aside, the young man rose to his feet and slipped the dressing gown on, raising one hand to trace his initials with a reverent sigh, "It's perfect." He wondered how many hours she'd spent at the needlework, how many nights she'd sat up long after he'd gone to bed to give him just the right gift. Bending, he kissed her cheek and murmured, "Thank you, Mother."

"I'm so glad you like it," Anne replied, beaming up at him as he straightened. "Perhaps after dinner we could - why, William!" She gaped in astonishment at the small box he placed in her hands. "What's this?"

Her son gave her a devilish smile that was enough like his father's to make her chest ache. "You aren't the only one that braved Bond Street," he teased. "And I'll have you know that I had to dodge a band of Gypsies coming up one way and a traveling circus the other!"

The laughter he received in return for his foolish little tale was more than enough to fill his heart to overflowing. Anne shook her head and opened the box, then breathed, "Oh, my." She traced the delicate lines of the cameo brooch with shaking fingers and repeated, "Oh, my. William, wherever did you - how did you - oh, my!"

"Never mind about that. Do you like it?"

She swallowed, fighting tears as she nodded. Andrew had always made it a point to give her some piece of jewelry for Christmas, even if it was as simple as a gold chain or ear bobs. How thoughtful of dear William to realize that she might miss that tradition! "It's beautiful," she told him. "Thank you so much, my dear."

Bending to receive the kiss she beckoned him down for, William hugged her close. "I'll make him proud," he whispered in her ear. "I'll make you both proud, I promise."

Anne shook her head, laying one hand gently on his cheek. "You don't have to say that, dear heart. We already are, and I know we always will be." She reached for her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Now, then. You were planning on attending the Graysons' New Year's party, weren't you? I hear the Underwoods' daughter has finished school and will be there. You remember Cecily, don't you?"

He chuckled and sank down onto the floor at her feet. "I will if you want me to. And I think I remember her - all legs and hair, wasn't she?" His mother made some reply, but he really wasn't paying attention, not when he felt her hand slide into his hair. Soon she began to sing, and William let the sweet strains of the old folk song ease him into a light doze. While he would never stop missing his father, he still had Mother and they were surrounded by love…what better Christmas could there possibly be?


End file.
